At Last
by Darkeyes17
Summary: G1 Complete: The twins get their medic. Sexual frustration comes to a boil and leaves these mechs melting. Sticky smexing inside, Ratchet/Twins. Request for Katea-Nui.


**A/N: Ok, finally got off my lazy butt and did this. The last of my current request fics pending. This is for the wonderful Katea-Nui, who has been so patient in waiting for this. *Wince* It's been over a month. Please note that soon we will be starting the next arc of the "Feeling" series, but they will be posted on Katea-Nui's profile. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

**P.s – You know I don't own Transformers.**

**Warnings: STICKY mech on mech threesome with very light bondage and first times as a couple. **

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><p><strong>At Last<strong>

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><p>Ratchet twirled his wrench as he looked at the unashamedly grinning Sideswipe, who laid on his medberth.<p>

"Now, if you get dropped from _that_ height by Skywarp again-" Ratchet growled.

"I'll still come to you, you'll yell, whack me with your wrench, fix me up, lecture me, and send me on my merry way," interrupted the red warrior cheerfully, giving the medic a wink. "It's more predictable than Starscream trying to backstab Megatron, Ratch."

"Get out," Ratchet said shortly, pointing his wrench at the door.

Sideswipe grinned wider, saluting the medic and strutting to the door. He turned his helm back and said mischievously, "Until next time, babe!" He then ducked out, roaring in laughter as a wrench collided with where his helm had just been.

Ratchet couldn't find it in himself to laugh and he heaved a heavy sigh, moving to sit in his office. How many times could he repair them before it sunk into their thick helms? How many times did they have to be near death? It made his spark twist every time that one or both twins were laid up in his medbay, half on their way to the well of sparks. Because somehow in all their sociopathic behaviour, pranks and death-defying attacks on the Decepticons, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had stolen Ratchet's spark.

Whether they knew it or not was another thing.

With another sigh, tipping his helm back over his chair, Ratchet couldn't shake the want he had felt for the twins. He had never felt an attraction to any other bot or bots like this before. It was only exacerbated by their devilish grins as they pranked him, or as they got up from the medberths, or as they did their ridiculous jet-judo.

Those smiles made him fall most of all.

Especially Sunstreaker's. He didn't smile brightly often, but when he did, the mech looked like a _god_.

Not to mention those youthful, strong and beautiful bodies, frame's polished to perfection, every line, curve and angle perfectly engineered. And to think that he had always laid his hands on them, in them, when trying to save them, unconsciously wishing it was not this sort of situation that he wanted to have his hands on them.

Their personalities were also what drew him in, not just their physical appearance – no matter how delectable. Brave fools they were, they were also charming, cunning, determined, loyal, Autobot's at spark even if Cliffjumper and Gears thought to the contrary. Underneath that tough exterior, Ratchet knew their history, knew that they had been abandoned as younglings. It made his spark reach out to them, want to take their pain away. He knew that part of that was due to his medic coding, however…

Groaning, Ratchet thunked his helm on his desk.

'_Get over it. Doubtful they'll ever look at you like that so stop thinking it!'_ he admonished himself, and got up and headed back into the main area of the medbay, hoping to distract himself with work.

He walked past the berth Sideswipe had been on, halting as he spotted a game chip.

Picking it up, Ratchet fought the urge to sigh again. Looks like he would have to return it to the little glitch.

Making his way to the twins quarters, the medic rapped on the door, huffing when he got no answer. He seriously did not have time to wait, delectable looking mechs or no. Typing in his medics code, he strode in, only to freeze. He was in the small living room area, but the large door to the berth room was wide open.

And there, pinning his twin to the berth, was Sunstreaker – who was interfacing hard and fast with Sideswipe, moaning and mewling underneath the golden warrior as his valve was repeatedly filled with hot, hard spike.

Ratchet's position in the living room meant he saw every buck of those black hips sinking that throbbing spike deep into the wet valve. He gasped, lust shooting through him, dropping the game chip on the ground. He couldn't tear his optics away. He just stood, minutely trembling with arousal, watching the erotic display. Ratchet almost gave himself away as the twins overloaded, Sunstreaker roaring his pleasure while Sideswipe keened and wiggled on the berth with climax, lubricant and transfluid making its way out of the valve to smear over their thighs.

Knowing they would surely notice him, Ratchet crept out, panting, carefully letting the door close before running off to his private washrack.

He needed a cold shower.

* * *

><p>Growling softly in his vocaliser and pulling out, Sunstreaker asked his twin, "You think it worked?"<p>

With a smile and stroking over the handsome face of his twin, his sparkmate in all sense of the word, Sideswipe replied, "I know it did. You were so good I almost forgot to check. Yeah, he saw us. Time'll tell if he'll actually act on it though." The red plated mech stretched and purred as Sunstreaker moved to rest beside him, wrapping him up in strong yellow arms. "Mmm, Sunny, that was so good. I can tell you missed me."

"I aim to please," Sunstreaker smirked into the neck plating, cuddling up to his twin.

Sideswipe merely smiled happily. It was so good when Sunstreaker was like this. He always worried about the younger twin, and it was moments like these that made Sideswipe worry less. Now, if only they could coax Ratchet to their berth, everything would be perfect.

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><p>Ratchet was ignoring them.<p>

Ever since the medic had seen them interfacing, he had done everything to escape their presence. If they entered the rec-room, he left. If they got into scuffles, First Aid was the one to fix them. Even when Sideswipe hung a disco ball in the middle of the medbay and painted it in a myriad of red, green and blue, Ratchet did not come after them, wrench bared. No, instead Prowl showed up at their door, gave them a pointed look and said, "Brig. You know what you did."

Sunstreaker felt his fury grow each day.

And his self-confidence drop.

He was his usual intimidating, minibot terrorising, sociopathic self he usually was. At night, however, in his berth, either alone or with Sideswipe, his processor ran in convoluted thoughts about Ratchet. He and Sideswipe had wanted Ratchet for quite a while now, and had noticed that Ratchet seemed to like them in the same way back. Sideswipe had the idea to put on a bit of a show to tempt Ratchet, which seemed to have backfired. And Sunstreaker wondered if it was because of him. He was the twin with the higher battle lust, the one with more violence in his spark, the protective one which had led him to be this way. Was it him that made Ratchet run? It couldn't be Sideswipe. Sideswipe was outgoing, mostly friendly, the prankster, the entertainer – why wouldn't Ratchet at least act on his lust towards the red twin?

Sighing, Sunstreaker forced himself to stop thinking and instead look critically at the painting he was working on. It was almost done. It depicted a scene from one of his greatest fantasies, and he wanted to share it with Sideswipe as a gift.

There was a berth with sheets as white as snow, Ratchet undulated, armour polished to a bright cherry and white shine. He was on his back, optics a soft teal with affection as they gazed up at Sideswipe over him. A cherry red hand laid on Sideswipe's cheek and was stroking it while the ruby mech grinned down at the medic. Ratchet's other hand was splayed out to his side on the berth, reaching almost out of the painting…reaching…yearning…

The painting mech huffed slightly. In the fantasy, Ratchet was mindlessly reaching out for him.

"Nice one, bro."

Sunstreaker jumped, growling as he spun around and saw Sideswipe leaning casually on their berthroom doorway. He had been so wrapped up in his painting that he had not heard or felt his twin through the bond.

"Thanks, but it's not done," the younger twin said shortly, going back to it. He was about to add in some shadow when he felt Sideswipe come up behind him and rest his helm on his shoulder. A slow pulse came through their bond, and Sunstreaker found himself relaxing as Sideswipe seemed to take away all of his doubts. He pulsed back, tilting his helm to the side to brush a helm fin over a sensory horn. Sideswipe chuckled, pressed a kiss to his helm and pulled away.

The atmosphere changed again, and Sunstreaker put his paints down and threw a look over his shoulder to the red Lamborghini, who was now grinning.

"You're planning something," Sunstreaker said matter-of-factly.

Sideswipe continued to smile, drawing the silence out for a little before saying, "Well, considering that our original plan for getting Ratchet to grow some bolts didn't work, I'm considering the direct approach. I'm getting impatient, and I know you are too."

Arching an optical ridge, Sunstreaker asked, "And what makes you think tonight is the perfect time to try?"

Sideswipe's grin only seemed to get wider and replied smugly, "A little birdie told me that Ratchet is all alone in his medbay _right now_."

Finding his own lips curved in a small grin, Sunstreaker said, "I have a feeling he won't be able to get away so easy then."

"Sunny, you read my processor."

"What little of it there is."

"Hey!"

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><p>Ratchet tinkered with the spare arm he had made. After all, in battles, they were usually the first things to be damaged and it was vigilant to have spares.<p>

That, and it was a very good way of not thinking of the sinfully delicious scene he had witnessed between the twins. It had played, very much like a broken record, in his processor ever since he had saw it, which made for interesting wet dreams and masturbation sessions. It was highly distracting, as he'd be doing innocuous things, to be suddenly be reminded of either or both twins and cause the memory to play, making his spike throb in its housing and his valve clench and lubricate.

Realising he was thinking about the moment again, Ratchet growled in frustration and threw down his wrench.

"Oooh, looks like the Hatchet's got his wires in a bunch," cackled a voice from behind him.

Ratchet froze. Damn it! He should have known they'd have cornered him sooner or later. He turned slowly, keeping his face impassive, as not even five feet in front of him stood the twins shoulder to shoulder. Sideswipe was grinning, and Sunstreaker looked impassive, but there was an intense gleam in his optics that made Ratchet want to shiver. That look made him think that the golden mech wanted to pounce on him and devour him.

"What," he grunted.

"Aw, Hatchet, that's not nice, especially to two mech's you've been avoiding for the past few weeks," Sideswipe chided, his grin dimming a little, but still fixed on his lipplates.

Ratchet winced at them. Hearing it like that, he felt guilty. He sighed and rubbed his chevron and said, "Don't blame yourselves. It's me." He wanted to bang his helm into his hand. He couldn't believe he had said something so…scripted…to them, and he knew they would see through that half-afted attempt at an explanation.

"Oh?" Sunstreaker said softly, leaning down and getting into the medic's personal space. "Because usually when a mech avoids me, I know _why_. With you, I knew nothing. Why?"

Ratchet narrowed his optics. He didn't like being cornered at all. "Fine. That day I fixed up Sides I went to go give you back a game chip and saw you interfacing, happy?"

Something dark shot through the golden mechs optics as he growled, "What does that have to do with anything? I thought you, a medic of all mechs, would understand the need for twins to interface and sparkbond."

The medic realised how it must of sounded and put up his arms to halt Sunstreaker, but found himself pushed back, against the work bench, heard Sideswipe cry out in warning – it did not matter, not when Sunstreaker's face was so close to his own, hurt and angry, and that revved body pressed against his own. It would have been erotic if not for the fact that the younger twin's grip on his hands was going to hurt if it tightened further. "Does it make you disgusted, Ratchet, knowing that my brother and I frag each other senseless? Does it make you want to not look at us, to think us below your gaze?" Sunstreaker asked, tone dangerous and low, yet Ratchet could detect a hidden anguish that the golden mech truly _did_ think that was the problem.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Ratchet snarled back. He stubbornly told his body to resist that one of the subjects of his desire was pressed to him, almost intimately, and to not react to it. It was futile and he felt himself warm in his pelvic region.

"Sunny…" Sideswipe said worriedly, trying to pull back the angry mech.

"Then what?" Sunstreaker growled, ignoring his brother.

That growl sent lust pooling in his abdomen and Ratchet couldn't take the sheer animalistic magnetism of the being before him. Growling back, he said, "This!"

And then he darted forward and crushed his lips to Sunstreaker's, freeing one hand and using it to wrap around the other's neck to keep him in place as he kissed, sucking and nipping at those tantalizing lips.

Feeling that first contact of the medic lips on his own, Sunstreaker felt his processor stutter in shock. Before he could think on it, he reacted instinctively, feeling Ratchet press his helm closer. _Damn_ but the medic could kiss! He shuttered his optics and kissed back, releasing the other red hand to slide down to Ratchet's aft, squeezing it and drawing them closer together. Ratchet moaned loudly at the action, giving Sunstreaker the opportunity to slip his glossa into the other's warm mouth, mapping out the insides, unmistakably claiming that mouth as his. Their glossa's brushed and then stroked fiercely, pressing their mouths harder together as if they couldn't get enough.

Ratchet broke off first, processor spinning from the passion of the lip-lock. Sunstreaker was panting slightly, hurt on his face gone and replaced by satisfaction and lust.

"Frag…" came a voice to their left.

Both panting mechs looked to see Sideswipe, optics caught on their lipplates, wet with oral lubricant and slightly swollen from the kiss. They could see he was panting with arousal, same as they were.

"I avoided you because I didn't think you would ever be attracted to me and that bloody pit-spawned image of you two 'facing was caught in my processor and turning me on!" Ratchet exclaimed hotly, faceplates heating in a blush.

The twins looked at each other, identical grins curving their mouths that would make most Decepticons run for cover. Sideswipe strutted forward with a sure sway of his hips and breathed in the medic's audio, "Good. That's _exactly_ what we wanted to know."

"Wha- mpf…" Ratchet's reply was cut off by Sideswipe's lipplates descending on his, no less heated but less urgent than Sunstreaker's, glossa meeting his. They tangled together, lips massaging the others in an erotic dance. The white and red mech could feel the body heat from each twin as they revved, lust taking them both.

"We want you, Hatchet," Sunstreaker purred, optics gleaming with predatory lust as Sideswipe drew away slightly, a string of oral lubricant between their mouths.

Ratchet shook his helm lightly to clear the daze and he protested weakly, "But, I'm older than you both, and you are both so beautiful and graceful compared to me."

"Don't tell us that we don't know what we want. We want you…all of your dignified and handsome form," Sideswipe muttered, nipping lightly at the medic's jaw line and licking at his audial as Sunstreaker copied his motions.

Feeling his kneejoints get weak from the treatment, Ratchet whimpered.

"We need you, _now_," rumbled Sunstreaker, sucking on cables on the medic's neck, proud of the writhing of the body.

"And frag going on a _date_ first. You don't care about that, do ya?" Sideswipe purred, rubbing up against Ratchet's side and moving up to kiss the grey chevron.

"Not when you're doing that to me. Quarters, now!" Ratchet ordered, just able to keep from moaning the words. He felt, more than heard, the twins chuckle and salute him. They were going so fast, but the sexual tension had been building and building for the past few weeks, and they were all desperate with desire. Their movements blurred, and the next thing Ratchet knew was himself getting dropped lightly on a berth, two warm bodies descending on his, hands sliding and exploring new plating they had never touched before, mouths kissing and licking at his face and neck. He was powerless to stop, and he found himself relishing in that fact.

"More," he said hoarsely, arching into each touch, four talented hands stroking him, teasing him, digging into seams and stimulating wires he didn't even know were sensitive!

"Gorgeous," breathed Sunstreaker, taking Ratchet's lips with his own, cupping Ratchet's face as Sideswipe moved down, licking in long strokes over the sensitive windshield of the ambulance alt-form. Ratchet made an odd, strangled noise at the contact, hips bucking up reflexively.

With a grin, Sideswipe shimmied down even more and let his glossa lightly caress a seam in Ratchet's interface panel.

"Oh!" the medic gasped, barely holding back from opening the panel to expose himself.

Sunstreaked kissed his jawline, saying, "You are so gorgeous when you make those sounds and faces. Open up."

Panting, Ratchet asked abruptly, "This isn't some…nngh…dare or prank, is it?"

The golden mech growled, grabbing Ratchet's shoulders and hoisting him up so he was sitting and then slid behind him. "No. And for that naughty remark, you don't get to touch us." Ratchet made a noise of protest, wriggling as Sunstreaker pulled handcuffs out of his subspace and locked the smaller mech's arms behind his back.

"What are you doing? Please! Let me touch you," Ratchet pleaded. His helm was gently twisted back into the hand of the slightly younger twin, who was smirking as he purred, "This way it ensures that you some back for more another time….so you can touch _us_."

His ruby twin grinned, "Nice one bro."

Still grinning, he laved his glossa over the interface panel, hot underneath his touch and a faint sheen of lubricant seeping out of the seams. Ratchet shuttered his optics and let out a low moan, letting the panel retract. Immediately, his spike jutted up into the air and the tang of his lubricant filled their olfactory sensors. Sideswipe hummed in satisfaction, nosing the underside of the spike before looking up at his twin, who was staring at him with deep, intense optics over Ratchet's shoulder.

"Sure you won't have a taste, Sunny?" Sideswipe asked innocently, in complete contrast to the decadent situation they were in.

"You know I'm close to overload just by watching, so no. The only place my transfluid is going tonight is in Ratchet's valve," he purred into the white and red mech's audials, making Ratchet writhe and shudder with desire.

Sideswipe shrugged, and then enclosed his mouth over the tip of Ratchet's spike.

"OH!" he cried out, straining not to buck his hips up.

"Open your optics Ratch, watch him suck you off, watch as you slide into his mouth…it's so hot," the yellow twin whispered by the medic's audio, enjoying the reactions to the mech he had slid his arms around, relishing in the feel of the other's plating against his own. The warmth and the slight movement's of Ratchet's body only served to rev him up even more with want.

Sighing contentedly around the warm metal in his mouth, Sideswipe looked up into Ratchet's wide, desiring optics as he began to slowly bob up and down, glossa slithering on the underside to find the nodes and sensors that would eventually drag Ratchet into overload. Humming around the length, taking it down to the root, he then repositioned so his hand was hovering over Ratchet's exposed valve, fingertips lightly brushing the lining. He smiled as best he could around the member upon hearing Ratchet's choked cries and harsh pants. When had the poor medic last interfaced if he was reacting like _this_?

Drawing off, he said, "You smell so good, babe. I want you to overload and spill it all down my throat…"

Ratchet growled, bucking his hips once so the sensitive tip of his member brushed against the red hellion's chin, making him laugh.

"Eager…mmm," he sighed appreciatively, swallowing the hot, throbbing spike again and pushing not one, but two fingers into the medic's valve at the same time.

"Nnghh, oh," Ratchet breathed, pushing back into Sunstreaker's chest to splay his legs wider.

Sideswipe moved his other hand, stroking over the white thighs while his other pumped firmly into the silken walls of Ratchet's valve, feeling them get soaked with lubricant. Sucking harder, he twisted his fingers softly around a node in the upper wall, feeling them tighten and the hips tremble with impending overload.

Sunstreaker revved his engine and growled, the sound vibrating through all of them, flinging Ratchet head-first into a sudden overload, transfluid milked by Sideswipe's mouth to flow down his throat, and lubricant sliding along the probing, wonderful digits in his valve. He yelped and then bit his lips to stifle other, louder cries. He hadn't had an overload like _that_ in a long time. He gasped as the red Lamborghini slowly drew off him and took his fingers out of his wet valve.

Sitting up, Sideswipe leaned in to give the medic a slow, sensual kiss, savouring in the feel of a glossa smooth as silk rubbing against his own. Meanwhile his lubricant stained hand made its way to his twin's mouth, feeling his fingers encased in heat as Sunstreaker languidly sucked the lubricant off. Sideswipe pulled away and chuckled as Ratchet made a noise of frustration and jiggled his hands, trapped in the handcuffs behind him.

"Frag it, want to touch…" he growled, lust clouding his optics.

With a small chuckle, Sideswipe leaned back and replied, "Next time. We just want _you_ to have all the fun and to ravish you until you scream our names." A smirk played about his lips as Sunstreaker's and Ratchet's optics only darkened in lust. Then with excruciating slowness, he opened his panel and let his spike extend, displaying his hips proudly under Ratchet's appreciative gaze. Reaching forward, he took the medic from his twin's grasp, positioning them so his chest was against Ratchet's back. He grinned and purred, "Watch Sunny. We're the same in length, but in girth…" he trailed off, diverting his own gaze to his twin.

Smirking, Sunstreaker shuttered his optics slowly, stretching and raising his arms above his helm, leaning his helm back in an obvious show off as his interface panel clicked open, his own throbbing spike sliding out to jab at the air, proud and needy.

Ratchet had seen the warrior's spike before during interfacing equipment check-ups, but had never seen them rigid and throbbing - erect. He let his optics feast on the undulating golden yellow mech, letting out a small sound of need. Sunstreaker's spike was the exact same length as Sideswipe's but he was thicker. Not by much, but _just _enough to be noticeable.

Opening his optics, Sunstreaker purred, "Like what you see Ratch?"

"Oh yeah," the medic replied, sultry in tone as he licked his lips. If only his hands were free they would already be on that hot length and stroking. How he had wanted this moment, how he had dreamed of it, and now he was getting it like some well deserved treat. He felt the heat of the red front liner behind him, felt the spike against his lower back, as eager as his twin's. He knew, with so much surety, that this is what he wanted, to have them both taking him. It shot a blistering bolt of lust up his spinal strut and he arched back, displaying his needy valve to the more volatile twin.

Sunstreaker groaned at the sight, locking his optics with Sideswipe's, both communicating over their twin bond. With a grin, Sideswipe took the medic's hips in his hands and gently pressed the tip of his spike to the sopping entrance.

"Want this, babe?" the red twin murmured, kissing Ratchet's audial.

"If I honestly have to say 'yes' then I'll whap you upside the helm with my wrench!" Ratchet growled, desperate with want and arousal.

"I love it when you dirty talk me like that," chuckled Sideswipe, and lowered Ratchet's hips down on his aching need.

Ratchet hissed, valve tightening as he was impaled, and gasped, "Yes! At last."

"Mmm, echoing that statement. Never knew you would be so nice, a perfect fit," Sideswipe moaned, one hand moving from a cherry red hip to caress and pinch at the wires in side seams.

Meanwhile, the yellow mech watched with unbridled lust as his twin slowly entered the medic – _their_ medic, he was determined to make it – delighting in the sight of the spike sinking repeatedly in and out of Ratchet's valve. He focused on the purple-ish lubricant smearing around the entrance and coating his twins's spike. Shuffling closer, he quickly pumped his spike a few times, getting used to friction so he wouldn't hurt the moaning mech straddled across his brother's thighs. Ratchet looked right at him, but it wasn't like they were just seeing optic to optic.

It felt like the medic was looking right into his spark.

Leaning forward to capture those parted lips with his, he stilled the pair's movements, grasping Ratchet's hips tightly before slowly sinking into the sucking, wet channel beside his twin.

Ratchet keened, the sound of it almost immediately swallowed up by Sunstreaker's questing mouth on his, as he was stuffed full. There was not one node or sensor that was untouched by the two spikes in his valve, stretching the walls almost to the extent of pain. Pleasure washing in great waves across him, knowing the twins were feeling _exactly_ the same. Ratchet bucked up, signalling his readiness for more. He was going to overload quick, his valve so sensitized, and he wanted to take the twins with him.

Sideswipe hissed, wrapping his arms around the medic's abdomen and thunking his forehelm on Ratchet's shoulder. It was so tight, and the friction between Ratchet's valve lining, muscle cables gripping, and his twins spike was simply indescribably it was that good. He felt a few beads of pre-fluid drip out of his spike and moaned loudly, body trembling. He wanted to come _so _bad.

"Frag yeah," Sunstreaker gasped, pulling away from the passionate kiss and slowly, in tandem with the red twin, thrusting in and out with small movements. His hands gripped Ratchet's hips possessively, his engine revved with need, and the sensations were intense. He had never had a valve so tight around his spike in his whole lifestream. It was simply exquisite.

"Ah! More…" Ratchet pleaded, tucking his helm into Sunstreaker's neck, licking at the cables there, making the golden twin groan and jerk his hips.

No more words were said. They weren't needed as the twins increased their speed gradually, friction and delicious tension building between all of their bodies. Their spikes sank deep, the valve tightened in an indescribable sensation. Moans, growls, and gasps ejected out of their mouths as the passion built, pleasure shooting across their frames, energy climbing, electricity crackling across their circuits in a frenzy. They had all wanted it for so long, the physical touch, the desire. At last, they joined in body as overload hit with the force of a supernova.

Ratchet was first, legs held obscenely wide by Sideswipe, yelling out his long awaited release to the ceiling, calling the twins names, lubricant rushing out of his valve around the fullness of the spikes. He sobbed in ecstasy, body writhing in pleasure.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker followed not long after, also crying out hoarsely, bucking in and holding still as wave over wave of their own pleasure ripped through them, transfluid exploding out of their spikes, filling the stuffed valve and dripping out to join with the lubricant on the berth. They curled over Ratchet, trapping him between their bodies as they panted to cool themselves down, bodies just trembling.

Finally, they took Ratchet's handcuffs off, the medic's arms falling limply to his sides, so dazed as he was by the post-overload bliss. Pulling out slowly, hissing with the actions, they wrapped Ratchet up and their arms and tumbled to their sides on the berth. They dropped into recharge. No words had been needed after the sheer power of the overload. Mere words would have ruined it.

Words would be saved for the next day.

**A/N: WOOOOOOOOOTTTTT! Finally got this done!**

**Hey Kat, I hope you liked it! And any other reviews would be loved as well. **


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